Winter Wolf
by tealeeches
Summary: A rogue is sent to Skyrim to scout out the current situation with the Nords and bring the fight to the Thalmor discretely, with the sole purpose of stealing the White-Gold Concordat. She finds herself at the Companions' doorstep first, with one last note from her father. Rated Mature for violence/gore. language, and eventual adult situations.


Her small hand formed a fist and rapped on the large, wooden doors. A minute passed. She had been traveling non-stop for about a week, taking extra precautions in order to evade the Thalmor scouting parties that were now on high alert due to her disappearance from the Imperial City. The auroras were suddenly blackened by the clouds and rain began to fall. She knocked again. Another minute, the door creaked and opened slightly.

"What ya' need?" said a nearly naked Dunmer.

Cato peered up from under the hood of her red cloak. "May I speak with the Harbinger?"

He smirked, "Why would YOU want to join the Companions?"

"I don't, especially now knowing how arrogant their honorary door-boy is."

"Why, you little—"

_"Let me speak with Kodlak White-Mane,"_ she demanded.

Laughing, "No!"

Cato whipped her dagger out and shoved it deep within the side of the open door. "When you can un-lodge this, I'll leave," she whispered. "Until then, _I will_ have my word with the Harbinger."

She pushed passed the elf and entered the mead hall. The drunkards examined her, confused and dumbfounded.

"Ma'am," an older, balding man inquired, "are you lost?" He placed his hand on her shoulder as though she was his daughter.

"No, sir," she stated.

"Then what brings you here?"

"Firstly, I would like to inform you that your door-boy isn't very polite, nor is he very intelligent," she laughed, peering at the idiot trying to pull her dagger from the wood, "Secondly, I need to speak with Kodlak. I am not wishing to join, but it is of the utmost urgency."

"How so? He is ill at the moment."

"I have this." She handed him a small note, sealed in red wax with the Imperial seal. The man cracked the seal and skimmed over the note.

"Right this way," he ordered with no further hesitations.

Before following, Cato waltzed back to the door, skirt fluttering at each step, and effortlessly slid her dagger from the grip of the wood, stupefying the elf, and the drunkards in the hall.

She followed the man, Skjor he says to her, down into the living quarters. Food, weapons, armor, shoes, and tufts of fur littered the hall, along with earthen rugs and draperies. Alchemical ingredients and Septims were strewn carelessly around. Hushed voices echoed from the Harbingers quarters.

"For now, we will have to learn to live with this curse."

"Yes. But what of my brother? He's been finding it increasingly difficult to deal with his . . . transformations."

"As were mine. He will overcome them, in time. He will have to, until we find a cure."

Skjor waited until there was little to no conversational exchange before interrupting. "Kodlak, we have an emissary from the Imperial City wishing to speak with you."

The old man winced and rose to his feet, approaching the girl, "We do not have any quarrel with the Empire, nor stance in the . . . Cato?" he said in a surprised manner. He pulled her into a hug. "Oh! Dear, it's been too long. The last time I saw you, you were but a mere pup. Sit, sit. Vilkas, leave us for a little while. Skjor, have Tilma bring us some mead."

"No mead for me," Cato piped, her low, soft voice traveling through the room.

"Tea for the girl! So, Cato, what brings you here?" Kodlak examined her. She kept her hood up.

"I'm_ deeply_ sorry for intruding at this time of night. Though I wish it were so, this is no time for celebration," she whispered gravely.

"What is it then, girl?"

"It's explained in the letter. I'd rather not verbally speak of it. Read it, and burn it."

Kodlak carefully read the note she produced from her belt-pouch.

Once.

Their tea and mead arrived, and sat mostly untouched. Cato's thin, calloused fingers danced across the rim of the teacup, turning it occasionally.

Twice.

Carefully, he took a candle to the letter and tossed it onto the stone floor, burning it into dust.

Hushed, "I see. I will arrange proper housing for you as soon as possible and inform any guards to be on alert."

"They already know I'm here, I think. The Dominion does not."

"Vilkas!"

Footsteps rushed to the door, accompanied by clanking armor. The man who was in the room before cracked the door and peered in glancing quickly at the hooded girl, "What is it?" He stood tall, and somewhat slender. His had attempted to slick his hair back, but countless, dark chunks of it fell around his face and jaw. Black paint was smeared over his eyes, accentuating his somewhat, glowing, grey-blue orbs.

"Where is Farkas? I need him as well. I have jobs for both of you. Simple, but urgent."

Vilkas called for his brother.

Once.

Twice.

A deep groan escaped from one of the side rooms, causing Cato to jump slightly, eyes dilating. A larger man stumbled into the room half asleep and yawned as he rubbed his eyes. Clearly, the two were brothers. Twins, yet, so different. The larger of the two wore sleep clothes. His hair was messy and fell onto his shoulders and his face was a little dirtier. Like his brother though, his grey eyes eerily had a slight glow to them.

"Vilkas. Farkas. This is Cato Arquintius. Her father is a dear,_ dear_ friend of mine. First, and foremost, she _is not_ joining us . . . for she has a purpose for coming to Skyrim—do not try and recruit her," Kodlak chuckled before continuing in a more serious tone, "It is up to her whether to tell anyone why she is here or if she wants to join us in our endeavors. As far as you know, and you both will accept this sole reason: she is in need of protection, and we shall give that to her. Understood?"

The brothers nodded, nearly in sync with each-other. The girl pulled a large bag of coins from her belt-pouch and set them on the table.

"Good, now. Farkas, you are to escort Cato to the Bannered Mare. Then you are to head directly to Riverwood and speak with owner of the Sleeping Giant. Give her this," he commanded, scribbling on a blank piece of paper. "And the coin."

"Vilkas. Tomorrow, you will escort her to Riverwood. There is a house behind the inn. Help her with any belongings she has. If need be, coinage will be provided for a horse or carriage."

"I have a horse, sir," Cato remarked.

"Good. Good."

"If another horse is required for ease of travel, I can arrange that tomorrow," She said quietly, standing. "Farkas, whenever you're ready. Vilkas, I will meet with you in the morning outside of the inn." She peered at both from under her hood.

Nervous.

Tired.

There were questions the brothers wanted answered, yet, they were not allowed to ask.

"Well, let's get going then," Farkas yawned again.

"And!" the Harbinger interrupted, "If you see any suspicious activity from any of the citizens, bring her back here immediately. If there are any instances where you must defend yourself, so be it. She, knowing her own circumstances, will be able to notice any threats before you and will warn you accordingly."

"Will do," he looked down at the cloaked figure, who, in turn, looked up at him. He could barely see her face, shadowed by the hood. But, he could make out a few freckles. Wisps of brown hair. Her slightly painted lips formed a wolfish grin, baring her pointed canines.

Farkas returned with his own awkward smile. He offered his arm to her and she took it gladly. The other twin glared at her curiously, as though he was trying to pry open her body and snatch her soul.

Their eyes met and locked for a second.

Stomachs knotted.

Hearts skipped, breathing became heavy.

Cato smirked and looked down quickly, trotting along beside her escort.

"Where'd you come from?" Farkas half mumbled, slowly walking with Cato to the Bannered Mare. "Ah, nevermind. I know I'm not supposed to ask."

"Oh, no. Really, it's fine. Just," she paused, "try to evade any 'why' questions. I've lived in the Imperial City all my life, only visiting here a few times with my father."

"So, you've been to Whiterun?"

"Yes, though I can't remember much. I was a very young pup."

_Pup?_ Was she a beast? He's push it, he decided.

"Well then, you and Kodlak have some common ground I'm guessing."

"As I do with you and Vilkas. And Skjor."

The larger brother nodded slightly and opened the door to the inn, allowing Cato to enter first. She gently removed her hood from her head and scoped out the bar counter.

"Miss, I believe this is where we part," Farkas started. "I have to take this stuff to Riverwood, I guess."

Cato smiled, "Yes. And here, take this for your troubles. Goodnight." She placed a small, velveteen bag in his paw-like hand and turned to reserve her room for the night.

Farkas left and began to head for Riverwood, his own thoughts conglomerating into a lump in his mind. He walked briskly with his hands stuffed in his pockets, fumbling with the little bag. He hadn't opened it. He didn't know if he would.

_"How does she know we're beasts? Maybe it's because she shares the blood herself. She could probably smell it in the air the moment she arrived at Jorrvaskr. But her eyes—they're dark. At least I think they are. And that look Vilkas gave her. Calm, but afraid? Do they know each other? He looked like he wanted to eat her."_

Confusion.

Anger.

Longing? Perhaps.


End file.
